


Sequence

by luna_sonoma



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Force Bond (Star Wars), Kylo Ren Needs a Hug, Rating May Change, Rey Needs A Hug (Star Wars), Slow Burn Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, alternate universe - figure skating
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:02:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28339662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luna_sonoma/pseuds/luna_sonoma
Summary: Rey and Kylo Ren figure skate for rival clubs training at the same ice rink. Both feel hopeless in their competitive careers, forever missing the podium by a hair, until a mysterious connection offers the rivals a new path to success.
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 5
Kudos: 15
Collections: Ijustfellintothissendhelp





	1. Enemy Territory

**Author's Note:**

> I'm both an avid figure skater and a lover of Reylo, so it seemed only logical to combine the two.  
> Enjoy <3
> 
> (This first chapter is a new and improved version of one I wrote and orphaned back in 2018. I'm excited to get back to the story!)

With precision, Rey turns onto a backward outside edge, leans as far to her left as she can get away with, and hits the ice with the toe-pick of her right skate. Taking control of the momentum, she gains as much height as gravity will allow and snaps into position – arms against her chest, legs crossed tight. In the air, she completes three full rotations at breakneck speed.

But when she reconnects with the ice below, it’s less like an elegant swan and more like a dying pigeon.

With a sigh, she steps out of the landing edge and kicks the ice in frustration. Her beloved pair of Edea Ice Fly boots are so worn that they buckle when she skates. Jumping has become less about landing smoothly and more about landing without breaking an ankle; Rey needs new skates, _desperately,_ but her sponsorship money isn’t due till the end of the month, and then there’s food and tuition and rent and-

She stops that thought from progressing _again_ today. Money was tight. Obsessing over that fact wouldn’t change it.

Dispiritedly, Rey glides to the exit of the ice. She steps off and limps to the nearest bench, collapsing onto it with a groan. Her feet are _aching._

‘Off day, huh?’ a familiar voice asks from behind her. Rey twists round to see Finn, her closest friend, standing in his (new and very much _not_ worn down) skates, white plastic guards protecting the blades.

Rey offers him a half-hearted smile. ‘My skates are dead,’ she explains, lifting a foot to demonstrate her point. ‘The support’s gone in the ankles.’

Finn sits beside her, sympathetically tapping his left boot against her right one. ‘Not to tell you how to spend your sponsor money, but I think you can justify buying new skates, Rey.’

Sponsorship deals had entered her life about eight months ago, when Rey had begun competing internationally. The most lucrative of them belonged to a successful health foods business, who had approached her and promised monthly payments in exchange for advertisement on her Instagram profile. The business already sponsored a handful of skaters – including Finn – from both Rey’s club and the rival club, who trained at the same ice rink on alternating days. They didn’t care that they were supporting opposing clubs, and frequently requested that _all_ their sponsored skaters pose for group photos to promote the brand; it was all fake smiles and cheerful captions as the rival teams lied through their teeth about _how lucky they were to skate together._

It sucked. But the money was _way_ too good to turn down.

‘New skates next month. Maybe,’ answers Rey. ‘I’ll think about it.’

* * *

Kylo Ren has been skating since he was Ben Solo.

His friends – or, more accurately, his _acquaintances_ – joked that when he abandoned his parents’ figure skating club to join their rival one, he’d embraced the Dark Side of the Force. Half his competitive team is Star Wars-obsessed. Kylo mostly rolls his eyes at it, but it was responsible for his nickname – after the mysterious Knights of Ren, Hux claims, but Kylo honestly doesn’t have a clue what he’s talking about – and despite shrugging off the franchise as some dumb sci-fi money maker, he _does_ kind of like the name.

Ren rarely sees his parents these days. He lives with Hux and Phasma in a cheap apartment they rent with sponsorship money from that insufferable health foods business, and never trains at the same time as his parents’ club. The rivalry is an immature mess, he knows, but the First Order (another Star Wars nickname coined by Hux) is stronger than his parents’ team could _ever_ hope to be. Snoke is a ruthless coach, but his reputation for getting skaters to the top is infallible.

It’s a Saturday morning, when ice time is evenly split between the Resistance Club (yet _another_ of Hux’s names) and the First Order. It’s a system that works out nicely: the rink belongs to the Resistance from 7am to 8:45am, then is handed over to Ren’s team from 9:15am to 11am. The half-hour gap is there for the Zamboni to resurface the ice, but also (and more importantly, he might add) means the rivals can almost entirely avoid coming face to face.

_Almost._

Today when Kylo saunters in and dumps his case on a bench, he notices a Resistance skater hurriedly sliding support bandages onto both of her ankles as the First Order takes over the rink. He recognizes her as Rey, one of the other sponsorship skaters who he’s exchanged pleasantries with two or three times when they’ve been forced together for a group photo, dripping with staged friendship. Kylo doesn’t understand the damn group photos; the internet knows full well about the clubs’ bitter rivalry.

Rey keeps her eyes downcast as she finishes bandaging her ankles, fingers fumbling in her rush to get out of what has become enemy territory. Kylo’s seen her compete, and she’s _genuinely_ skilled, but she’s wasting her potential. The Resistance has taken her to international competition but lacks the momentum to put her on the podium, and in all honesty, he’d rather keep it that way. Any competition at Rey’s level belonged to Phasma, and a medal for one of his roommates was money that paid for rent when the sponsors didn’t cut it.

‘Resistance _Rat_ ,’ Hux hisses, spitting out the words like venom, and Kylo is kicked from his reverie. Rey freezes, having heard the insult, before grabbing her things and making a dash for the exit, one shoelace still untied.

Kylo watches as she risks a glance over her shoulder to make sure she didn’t leave any belongings behind, and for a split-second, her hazel eyes catch his. They both look away almost immediately, and Rey’s out the door less than a heartbeat later.

Beside him, Hux and Phasma exchange a selection of jokes at Rey’s expense. Ren sits down and slides into his skates, but can’t quite bring himself to get involved.


	2. Connection

An open textbook sits ignored in Rey’s lap, cheap highlighters and loose-leaf paper littering the couch around her. At some point, the pen in her hand was swapped for a mug of coffee, the ceramic so hot it stings her skin. She stares absently into the black, bitter liquid. The day ahead of her – like most days – is busier than she thinks she can cope with; between being a full-time athlete and a part-time student, there are very few moments Rey can spend staring into her coffee like this.

It's 5am; still dark outside. The city is quiet. Occasionally, a car or a siren comes to life in the distance, but not even the birds have awoken yet. 5am is strange and… _liminal._ She feels like the only real thing in the universe right now.

Next door, Finn and Poe are asleep; ice doesn’t start till 7am, and both are confident enough in their careers that there’s no need to rise before the sun and study.

There’s no future in skating for Rey. Her blades haven’t touched the podium since she was 15 (although, admittedly, joining the Organa-Solo Figure Skating Club _has_ gotten her closer), and she’s far too introverted to coach. Disney on Ice would hire her in a heartbeat but, every year, she passively watches the audition deadline come and go. Even a career in showbusiness could only last so long – it’s depressingly normal for figure skaters to retire in their twenties.

Rey is 19. How much longer does she have left?

So, she studies. In the few moments she has away from the ice, away from networking with sponsors, away from the gym, she throws whatever energy she has left into an engineering degree. But there’s so little time to spare.

She sips her coffee as the sun threatens to break the horizon. The bitterness draws her back into herself, returning feeling to her body. Her mind tears away from her reverie, only to find itself facing something else: she is being watched.

A vague, dark presence rises from the floorboards behind her. Rey closes her eyes against it.

This has been going on for _weeks._ Stress hallucinations. They never last long. The second she’s convinced she’s finally lost her mind, the presence will dissipate. Rey takes a slow breath, waits it out.

But it _doesn’t_ leave this time. Steadily, it grows behind her, feeding on the anxious static in her veins. Rey swears she can hear it breathing, low and alive. It reaches into her thoughts, surrounds her. _No. This isn’t real._

Rey’s eyes snap open.

Standing before her is a tall, broad figure. Pale skin. A shock of black hair.

It is definite, yet undefined. Rey can’t make out the features. Blurry, unreal, but definitely, _definitely,_ there.

Without a word, the figure vanishes.

Rey is left in silence, wide-eyed, heart hammering in her chest.

* * *

The ice doesn’t offer respite today. She feels mechanical. Empty. She runs her short programme – an expressive routine set to Jonny Greenwood’s _House of Woodcock_ – but just can’t connect with the music. Her mind is miles away from her blades, fixated on the blurred figure in her apartment and the overwhelming presence that accompanied it. Even the pain from her broken skates is distant. It’s ridiculous to let this get in the way of training, and Rey silently berates herself for allowing it to do so. The hallucination _wasn’t real._ Entertaining it would only make it worse. A good day’s work, a full night of sleep, and everything would be fine.

But, still, Rey is troubled. She performs the choreography, moving with no feeling even as the music swells, carving soulless edges into the ice until training comes to an end and she finds herself in the rink café.

At the counter, the barista pours her a decaf and points to the only empty table in the small seating area. Rey nods a thank you, takes her drink, and retreats back into her head as she claims the empty chair.

‘You look like shit,’ a deep voice mumbles to her left.

Rey lifts her eyes to the source of the words and has to refrain from throwing her coffee into his face. Of all people, Kylo Ren is seated at the next table over. He looks back at her nonchalantly.

‘Excuse me?’ Rey retorts.

He shrugs. ‘You look like you haven’t slept in a week. Late night?’

Rey turns back to her drink, but replies before she can remind herself to ignore him. ‘Early morning.’

‘Huh,’ he says, and she can tell he’s still looking at her. ‘Me too.’

Rey nods in that slow _okay-great-stop-talking_ way. Kylo shouldn’t even be here; the ice belongs to the Organa-Solo club on Mondays. And yet, here he was regardless, watching her with that indifferent expression as if he hadn’t just had the _nerve_ to tell her she ‘looked like shit’. _What a gentleman_.

Kylo takes the hint, but she can still feel his dark eyes on her. She clenches her jaw, tries to hold back the sharp comment forming like a bad taste in her mouth, and _knowing_ that biting back at him is pointless. But, dammit, she is too tired to deal with the stupid club rivalry, and too tired to deal with Kylo _fucking_ Ren.

‘Listen, Ren,’ she snaps, building the fire in her eyes so that when she looks up –

But Rey doesn’t get that far.

There’s no gradual onset this time. No warning. The presence – the same one from her apartment that morning – hits her like a punch in the gut. _Shit._ It was always awful when it happened in public, never mind with absolutely zero notice, or – even worse – with one of Snoke’s skaters _right_ there.

Rey braces herself for whatever unnecessary comment he’s primed to throw at her but, suddenly, Kylo Ren is on his feet. Voice tinged with panic, he tells her something, but the presence’s grip on her mind tightens, too strong now for her to process his words. By the time she manages a glance up to where he stood, Kylo is already gone.

* * *

_Shit._

Kylo is slumped against the wall of an empty stairwell, willing his to breath to steady. He’d bolted here from the café, practically throwing himself out of the room before Rey could see him have a literal breakdown.

_Shit._

The connection has never appeared this suddenly before. His heart is beating so rapidly he feels dizzy. He is losing his mind. He’s 22-years-old and already losing his mind.

_Shit._

It is getting worse. This morning, it had thrown him in a fit of panic from his dreams. It was a presence, an aura, _something_ , and it won’t leave him alone. For all he knew, this would be thing to end his career. _God knows it wouldn’t take much._

The first time – weeks ago, now – had only been a feeling, like when you think you hear your name called out, but then you look around and realize you misheard. The second time was similarly ignorable, but after that, the aura only grew in intensity. This morning, he _swore_ he saw a figure in his room when the connection was at it its strongest.

Of course, that’s impossible.

Ren forces himself to sit up. He needs to calm down, wait this out. On the cold concrete floor of the landing, he draws his knees to his chest and lets his dark hair fall over his eyes. The aura’s thoughts graze his own. He can feel it trying to surround him; there’s no use in grappling with it.

He hears the door in the entryway burst open downstairs, and immediately, the aura slams into his mind, _blindingly_ powerful. Kylo’s heart threatens to tear from his chest as his senses are attacked from all sides. It feels like he’s about to pass out.

Somewhere downstairs, there’s a pained cry, followed by a girl’s voice yelling, _‘Get out of my head!’_

And, just like that, the aura releases its grip. Gone.

Kylo collapses back against the wall, exhausted. He squeezes his eyes shut, fights to get a hold on his breathing. _What the hell!?_

He steels himself, forcing his eyes to open. Still on the floor of the stairwell, Ren warily calls out, ‘Hello?’

There’s a sharp intake of breath downstairs when the stranger realizes she isn’t alone. She does not reply.

‘Hello?’ he ventures again, craning his neck to peer downstairs, but the girl is tucked around a corner, just out of view.

A beat of tense silence flits by, and then she bolts past the stairwell, in the direction of the ice rink washroom. Kylo catches a split-second glimpse of soft brown hair.

_Rey?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The mysterious Force bond makes its grand appearance!
> 
> Thank you so much for the kudos and comments on Chapter 1, that was really awesome. I'm delighted that so many people enjoyed it.  
> The next chapter will be out next week, but in the meantime, I also post writing updates over on tumblr - my blog url is lunasonoma. Thank you again for reading, and have a wonderful week <3


	3. The Aura

Through the haze, Rey gathers her skating gear and exits the café, abandoning her coffee cup on the table. Blindly, she stumbles through the building, past the reception area, desperate to find someplace quiet to wait this out. The stairwell, right at the back of the building, would be empty; Rey would be safe there until the presence left her alone.

When the doorway finally enters her sights, Rey more or less throws herself through it.

It’s instant. The presence intensifies by a million, enveloping her, _crushing_ her. It is everywhere. Rey hears herself cry out as it knocks the air from her lungs, toppling her to her knees. Rey is _so_ beyond sick of this. The powerlessness of it all. The fact that when the presence takes over, there is _nothing_ she can do. Somewhere in her crowded mind, she wills herself to scrape for any semblance of clarity, a foothold to clamber back with.

Gathering every hint of strength in her, Rey pulls herself to her feet and commands aloud, _‘Get out of my head!’_

Miraculously, the presence obeys.

Rey collapses back against the wall in exhaustion. _That was one hell of a stress hallucination._ And she decides that it’s the last straw. It has to be; Rey _cannot_ continue living with this hanging over her head all the time. She will go home, call one of her coaches, confide in Finn, talk to her doctor, find a psychiatrist, whatever it takes to put an end to-

‘Hello?’

Rey freezes. There is someone else here, upstairs on the landing.

More confidently this time, the voice repeats, ‘Hello?’

Her stomach drops. _No. No, for the love of God, not him._ That voice – there’s no denying it – is Kylo Ren’s. It is too distinctive, that unique blend of deep, dark, soft. Nobody else she knows speaks like he does.

And he’d just heard her, inexplicably, have a breakdown in a stairwell. _Great._

Rey, mind still racing, weighs up her options. She could respond, try and play it cool. She could make a swift escape through the doorway. _No, what if he follows me out?_ Eyes darting this way and that in search of an answer, Rey eventually lands on her solution: just past the stairs is the staff bathroom. One cubicle. Always empty. She’d be alone and, even better, away from Kylo Ren.

There’s a passing thought to how completely immature this is, but Rey ignores it. She bolts past the stairwell and practically bowls herself through the door into the bathroom, locking it securely behind her. Finally, _finally,_ alone.

* * *

_Rey?_

Hesitantly, Kylo Ren stands. He should leave. Get out of here, pretend that nothing happened. Avoid eye contact with Rey the next time they cross paths.

But he’s just too curious.

There’s an unspoken mental toll in competitive figure skating. Kylo doubts there’s a single person who doesn’t feel it; even his roommate Phasma, with all her cool, unaffected exterior, suffers from the pressure placed on her to succeed.

Despite this, Kylo is pretty sure that an escalation into unpredictable, overwhelming stress hallucinations – or _whatever_ they are, he’s still undecided – is absolutely _not_ typical of being under some competitive pressure. Ever since that mysterious aura showed up, he had resigned himself to dealing with it alone. Tough it out. That was the plan. It wasn’t like he could confide in anyone; if Snoke ever found out what he was going through, he’d be done for.

It’s risky, he knows, but maybe an ally – as long as he can keep it all from Snoke – _isn’t_ out of the question anymore.

Kylo descends the stairs from the landing, coming to sit on the bottom step. He runs a hand through his black hair, piecing the situation together in his mind.

Surmising that Rey is suffering something similar to himself, whatever that _something_ is, isn’t unreasonable. Admitting likeness to a Resistance skater isn’t exactly Kylo’s idea of an answer, but he and Rey aren’t _that_ different. Both struggling to perform in the shadow of their more successful peers. Both watching their careers dwindle. Both taking life-changing steps to deal with it: Kylo had abandoned his parent’s figure skating club, and Rey began studying for a college degree.

Rey. The brunette Resistance skater who’d joined Han and Leia not long after Kylo had left.

_The brunette…_

His mind snaps back to his bedroom that morning. 5am. The aura had materialised as it usually did, waking Kylo from his sleep. When he’d opened his eyes, there was a figure sitting on the end of his bed, too undefined to make out anything more than a lean body and a head of brown hair.

Brown hair just like Rey’s.

No, that’s absurd. He’s connecting evidence that doesn’t exist. Searching for an explanation more fantastical that his – likely boring – reality.

But the way the aura had strengthened tenfold when Rey entered the stairwell, and how immediately it receded at her command… that isn’t _nothing._ Probably isn’t evidence either, but-

The staff bathroom door opens. Rey steps out and freezes when she spots him sitting there, the color draining from her face as if she hadn’t expected him to still be in the stairwell.

‘Uh…’ Kylo stalls, suddenly and _acutely_ aware of how creepy this must seem. ‘I wasn’t… waiting for you…’

‘I’d hope not.’

‘That would be weird.’

Rey eyes him suspiciously. She opens her mouth to respond, then thinks otherwise, opting instead to step past him.

Knowing it is _definitely_ not going to help his case, but certain that he will not get another chance to ask, Kylo stands up and places himself directly in her path. ‘What were you yelling at?’ he questions.

The color floods back to her cheeks. She glares at him, hazel eyes severe. ‘Nothing. It was nothing.’

‘That’s not true.’

‘Yes, it is,’ she snaps. ‘Look, I’m just under a lot of pressure right now, and you shouldn’t even _be_ here today, so I’d really appreciate it if you would just leave me alone.’

Kylo can feel frustration getting the better of him as Rey rejects the metaphorical – and, admittedly, disastrously offered – olive branch. He matches her angered expression with one of his own and retorts, ‘I’m here for the public skating session. You don’t _own_ this rink, you know.’

Rey rolls her eyes and pushes past him, heading for the doorway without another word as Kylo accepts that he has approximately half a second to bite back his anger and say what he had meant to tell her.

‘Wait, Rey,’ he speaks up. She does not turn to face him, but does pause mid-step; Kylo takes it as permission to continue. ‘That _thing_ you yelled at – the aura, whatever… I feel it too.’

A beat flits by. Rey offers no response. Silently, she pushes through the doorway, leaving him alone in the stairwell.

* * *

Half a mile from the ice rink, Rey gives in and allows herself to consider Kylo’s words. He had sounded so genuine, so _earnest_ , more than she’s ever heard from him or even thought him capable of. This was the same guy who’d rudely insulted her in the café no more than thirty minutes ago.

The _aura,_ he called it.

A more elegant title than the _presence_ she’s labelled it. An aura, radiating out from the vague figure in her living room that morning. An aura that Kylo Ren claimed to share.

Before she can think better of it, Rey turns around and walks back to the rink. Public skating, Kylo mentioned; he would be on the ice. It’ll take ten minutes for her to get there. Ten minutes to figure out whether she really believes him.

By the time Rey arrives, she decides that – cautiously – she does.

* * *

Public skating is cheap but _busy_ ice time. Hordes of people clinging to the barriers, kids in rental skates with no concept of spatial awareness, beginner hockey players who always learn how to skate fast before they know how to stop. Chaos.

But Kylo Ren clearly has the public schedule figured out. It’s during work hours still, so the session is completely deserted.

Except for him.

A powerful, lone figure on the ice, dressed head to toe in black. Rey can’t help but watch. He is in the midst of his step sequence, deep edges, pristine turns, a backward inside loop on his left, a transfer of weight to his right, a falling leaf to forward. Even with no music playing, and unaware that he’s gained an audience of one, he expresses with everything he has. He is in his element.

Kylo moves into an outside rocker – an easy turn – and catches his toe pick. He stumbles, only for the briefest of seconds, but as he pushes on with the step sequence, his demeaner shifts entirely. Rey watches as the flow of his movement becomes choppy, _angry._ The control is gone. He slips onto the wrong edge for a bracket, doesn’t try to salvage it, stops fighting to keep his rhythm.

Rey knows all too well how that feels.

She ties the laces of her broken skates and pulls on a pair of cheap woollen gloves. Kylo comes to the end of his step sequence just as she moves onto ice.

He hasn’t noticed her yet. He’s still stuck inside his own head, idling on the ice now while he catches his breath. Slowly, Rey glides in his direction and half-heartedly wills herself to think better of it. But if she _really_ wanted to turn around, she would’ve done it already.

‘Ren,’ she calls, stopping a few yards away, and it occurs to her that they’ve never been on the ice together before now.

Kylo jumps in surprise, taken out of his reverie. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘What did you mean by aura?’

‘I…’ he hesitates like he’s still taken aback that she followed him here. ‘I don’t know.’

‘You seemed to know _something_ earlier.’

‘I thought the aura was stress-related.’

Rey crosses her arms. ‘It _is_ stress-related.’

He looks at her like he’s about say something else, but instead skates past her, grabbing his water bottle from where it’s perched on the barrier. His dark clothing and black hair are stark against the ice, and the realisation rears its head. Broad shoulders, ebony hair, the figure in her living room.

Of course, she dismisses the thought as quickly as it arises. It’s ridiculous, impossible, and a sure indicator that she _really_ does some sleep.

‘Well, whatever it is,’ Kylo leans against the barrier, ‘I can empathise.’

‘Is that why you didn’t make fun of me for freaking out in a stairwell?’

‘Ha,’ the corners of his mouth twitch upwards, risking the slightest smile. ‘Only because you could make fun of _me_ for hiding in that stairwell.’

The exchange is a little _too_ close to banter, and they both look away uncomfortably. Rey taps at the ice with a toe-pick, suddenly awkward, feeling the resolve she’d come here with fading.

Eventually, she tests her luck and joins Kylo at the barrier. He glances over at her, a silent acknowledgement.

‘Your step sequence was pretty good,’ ventures Rey despite the feeling of thorough _wrongness_ in making small talk with one of Snoke’s mafia.

‘I lost it halfway through.’

Rey shrugs. ‘Looked more like you gave up on it.’

‘Whatever. I didn’t come here to be coached.’

 _Alright then._ A swift end to a futile endeavour. Beside her, Kylo fiddles with the cap of his water bottle as they fall back into uncomfortable silence. Rey dispiritedly wonders what she even expected would happen here. This public skating session cost her four dollars that she would never get back, and for what? So she could discuss the state of her problematic mental health with Kylo Ren on the off-chance that he _might_ relate?

‘I should go,’ Rey pushes away from the barrier. Kylo isn’t her ally and relating to him is _not_ going to solve her problems.

But before she can go anywhere, Kylo grabs her shoulder.

She’s about to give him a piece of her mind, shove his hand away, but stops short when she sees his expression.

He looks right at her, eyes wide and pleading; if she didn’t know any better, she’d say he was almost fearful. ‘Rey, don’t tell anyone about this. The aura, I mean. Please. My coach, he’ll –’

‘I- I won’t,’ she agrees, taken aback by the pleading tone in his voice.

Kylo drops his hand from her shoulder and casts his eyes downward, the façade coming back over him. He stands there for a second, unsure of himself, then mutters, ‘Uh, I’ll see you around. I guess.’

‘Right,’ answers Rey. ‘I’ll… see you around.’

So, she leaves him. As she steps off the ice, Rey glances over her shoulder and can’t help but notice that the powerful, lone skater, who’d performed his step sequence with such confident conviction only a few minutes ago, now seemed a lot more _lone_ and lot less _powerful_ than he had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A longer chapter this week! This one was a lot of fun to write.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, and for leaving kudos and kind comments. I'm really enjoying writing this fic, and it makes me so happy that you all are enjoying reading it.  
> The next chapter will be out in about a week, and in the meantime, I post writing updates and general Star Wars content on my tumblr - you can find me on there at lunasonoma, if you'd like. Thanks again for reading, happy new year 2021, and have an excellent week <3


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